Memory is Not What the Heart Desires
by vjs2259
Summary: Set post Sleeping in Light. Susan Ivanova comes to Minbar where she confronts her past, and her future.
1. Awakening

Standard disclaimer applies; not my characters or settings or backgrounds. But they are my words.

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Title taken from The Fellowship of the Ring-by J.R.R. Tolkien

_Legolas: "But you have not forsaken your companions, and the least reward that you shall have is that the memory of Lothlorien shall remain ever clear and unstained in your heart, and shall neither fade nor grow stale."_

_"Maybe," said Gimli; "and I thank you for your words. True words doubtless; yet all such comfort is cold. Memory is not what the heart desires**.** That is only a mirror, be it clear as Kheled-zaram. Or so says the heart of Gimli the Dwarf. Elves may see things otherwise. Indeed I have heard that for them memory is more like to the waking world than to a dream. Not so for Dwarves."_

**Part One: Awakening**

It had taken Susan Ivanova three months to wind up her affairs in Geneva. Three months which had passed in a blur, but finally she was finished, and able to return to Minbar to take up her new position as leader of the Rangers. Even after resigning her commission, there had been projects to finish, reports to file, interviews with curious politicians, debriefing with colorless bureaucrats, and time stolen from all these distractions to pack, and to brush up on her Adronato. She hadn't bothered to pack much; some mementos of the War, clothes, some books. The Shadow War was still _the_ War to her. She hoped there would never be another like it, and that was part of the pull of duty that had led her to accept her new position.

The display holder for Marcus' denn'bok had been shipped ahead with other heavier items. The pike itself she carried with her. Susan liked to think that Marcus would appreciate her carrying it as Anla'Shok Na. _In memory still bright_, she thought as she tucked the weapon in the hidden inner pocket of her Ranger cloak. Delenn had sent one for her to wear on her journey. Adjusting the fall of the cloak, she gazed at herself in the full-length mirror that hung opposite the bedroom door. It reflected back an empty apartment, walls peppered with unfilled holes and smudged shadows where pictures had once hung. Her achievements, her promotions and medals; of these no evidence remained. They had disappeared into the past, and no longer felt important. None of it had ever replaced the people, the places, the comrades-in-arms, and the friends from twenty years ago.

It was time to go, and suddenly she felt light, as if she'd laid down a heavy burden. A surge of excitement flowed through her. Leaving was hard, arriving would bring its own challenges, but the journey held out more hope that she'd allowed herself to feel in years. Straightening her shoulders, she gazed once more at the foreign image that confronted her in the mirror. _We walk in the dark places_, Marcus had quoted to her more than once. She was tired of sleep-walking through life. It was time to start moving. Towards darkness or towards light, as long as she was moving forward that was enough for now.

Her arrival was quiet and unremarked, just as she'd requested. Her quarters were in the Alliance section of the complex, her office on the Anla'Shok side. One of Delenn's aides met her at the spaceport and escorted her straight to her rooms. Delenn had left strict orders that Susan was not to go directly to work, but to take a day or two to settle into her new life. Her things had been unpacked and neatly stowed away. Aside from a few pieces of minimalist furniture, some lighting and kitchen necessities, the place was empty. It reminded her of every first assignment she'd ever had. The Captain's quarters on the Titans, the newly commissioned ship which had been her first command, had been much the same- white, clean, and impersonal. After years of building a home on Babylon 5, it had been both a shock and a relief to get away to her own ship, to make a clean start. Unfortunately, memories can't be packed away; nor left behind so easily.

Susan had never been a natural early riser, but as she'd grown older, the mornings had become more familiar to her. After the first few weeks in her new position, she'd arranged regular early meetings with Delenn, sharing tea and coffee, and sometimes breakfast, while going over items of joint concern. One day in early summer, she'd worked through the night on a project, and realized at the last moment that she needed some data only Delenn could provide. It was a little while before sunrise, and she sent a quick message to the residence, querying the home computer whether anyone was up. If Delenn was already awake, Susan figured she could go on over, access the information she needed before their meeting, and get the report finished in time for this morning's conference with the Alliance's Military Committee.

The com reported that the residence was on daytime status, with moderate privacy selected. Susan left a message detailing what she needed, then figuring that Delenn wouldn't mind if she got there early in the circumstances, she gathered together her papers, threw on her Ranger cloak, and headed for the staircase that led upstairs to the Presidential wing. Her quarters were one flight down and one wing over, but it was only five minutes if she took the stairs. The lift was in the central corridor and added another ten minutes to the trip. When she got to the door, she nodded at the guards, and pushed the button to announce her presence while leaning forward for the retinal scan identification. She was buzzed in without comment, and went straight to the small dining area on the balcony. It was a deep balcony that ran the width of the apartment, with low dividers separating the areas off the kitchen, living room, and main bedroom. You could walk the entire length of the balcony along the railing, or retreat under the eaves behind the dividers and retain some privacy.

Delenn wasn't there, but the place settings for their normal morning meal were, and Delenn's table-top comsystem was set up and humming in operation of some bit of data retrieval. "Delenn?" Susan called out. When there was no immediate answer, she put down her papers and data crystal holder, and poured herself a cup of coffee. The mug was a thick heavy ceramic one, matte black with a wobbly outline of a StarFury drawn on it in gold. It was one David had made for John, years before. Susan had protested when offered it the first time, but had accepted Delenn's explanation that she liked to see it used, that all the memories it brought back were good ones.

Sipping at her coffee, Susan went to the edge of the balcony and admired the view of the dark sky. Light globes were visible in the gardens below, and the dark mass of the mountains on the horizon were shadows on shadows. The two moons, one a crescent, the other half full, glowed in the sky. It was almost dawn. Susan heard a door open and turned to her left, where she saw an elongated rectangle of light stretch across the balcony floor until it reached the silver railing, tinting it gold. It was the light from the bedroom door. "Delenn?" she repeated, not wanting to take her friend unawares, although the com should have alerted her already.

There was no answer. Susan stood by the railing, uncertain what to do. She heard the scrape of the door closing and the light retreated. The sky was starting to lighten, and now the jagged peaks were clearer, although the snow-capped tops dimmed as the moons' light on them faded. Susan moved closer to the railing, trying to see past the divider. There came a sound, a whisper like a prayer or a plea, and she instinctively moved away, holding her breath and trying not to overhear. Thinking back, she realized that every time she had come to Delenn's apartments in the past weeks, the Minbari woman had been awake, dressed, ready to start the day. She'd come too early, that was all, and must be interrupting some ritual or another.

The murmuring continued briefly, then stopped. Susan thought she heard a small cry, like a splinter of pain. That startled her and, and she moved into the center section, again approaching the railing. The clouds were tinged with pink, and scudding lightly south to north. There were no more sounds, and the silence began to weigh on her. Suddenly she became impatient. Ritual or not, if something was wrong with Delenn, Susan wanted to know about it.

Calling out, "Good morning!" Susan strode past the low barrier. Delenn was sitting on a stone bench set against the wall, looking outwards, toward the balcony rail.

"Good morning, Susan," she said, not taking her eyes off the far horizon. The sun's rays were over the mountain tops now, and the sky was turning blue at the edges, blurring into the red clouds floating across the golden orb.

Susan stared at Delenn's face, set in serene lines, her self-composure contradicting the sounds Susan had just heard. "May I sit down?" she asked.

Delenn took her eyes from the sun, now reduced to everyday pale yellow, and looked at her friend. She glanced briefly at the empty space at her right side, and smiled. "Certainly," she answered, "I am almost finished, and would enjoy the company."

Susan tucked the edges of her robe beneath her, and took a seat. "But what are you doing?" She dropped her head in a gesture of respect, and added, "If you don't mind my asking."

"It is called the Ritual of Remembrance," Delenn answered in a steady voice.

Susan almost smiled at the familiar tone of instruction, but the overall mood was too serious. "I can guess who you are remembering."

"Yes," replied Delenn abstractly. Then she turned to look at her friend, her expression now closed. "It is time for our meeting, and for breakfast. Shall we go?"

Susan looked closely at the Minbari woman. Her face was drawn and tired. Susan knew Delenn had been involved in late night negotiations almost every night for the past two weeks. "How often do you perform this ritual?" she asked abruptly.

"Every day," Delenn answered simply. "It is not a burden, Susan. I have to get up everyday, in any case. I perform the ritual, and I remember, every day."

"You need more sleep," Susan declared. "You have an Alliance to run, and it won't do anyone any good if you make yourself ill. Besides, you don't need a ritual to remember John. Not a day goes by that you don't remember him. I know," Susan's voice caught on the admission, "Because I do too." She leaned forward and asked, "Tell me some more about this. How long will this daily ritual last?"

Delenn shifted her eyes away from Susan. "It depends."

"Depends on what?" Susan tried to stay patient. She'd dealt with enough Minbari to know that pinning them down when they didn't want to tell you something was like trying to capture quicksilver. It was best to draw them out slowly and hope they let their guard down. She also knew that technique wasn't likely to work with Delenn.

"On many things. The relationship with the one who has passed beyond, the degree of clan distance, the exact circumstances..." Delenn's voice tailed off, then she said firmly. "It is our way, Susan. Now, let us get to work. You needed some information on the state of the production of the new White Star class V ships. My com system is collating the available data now."

"I need some information, all right, but not about ships." Susan crossed her legs at the ankle, crossed her arms at the chest, and leaned back against the stone seat. "I can wait. I've got all day."

Delenn pressed her lips together. "You do not, and neither do I. We can discuss this later."

"We can discuss it now," Susan replied. "Come on, Delenn. What is it? Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do." Delenn said, becoming slightly agitated. Then she sighed, "I suppose it would be easier to tell you."

"Yes, it would," replied Susan definitively. "Consider it part of my education. I told Marcus once it would take me a year to learn Adronato. It took a little longer than that, but the integration of your language and your culture means I still have a lot to learn."

Delenn smiled, "I hope it is not too onerous for you." She closed her eyes briefly, and her lips moved silently. Opening her eyes to look directly at Susan, she began her explanation. "Minbari mourn with ritual, fasting, and prayer. We fast to purge ourselves of grief, we pray for understanding, and we perform rituals to remember. In general the time frame is three weeks to fast, six months to pray, and up to nine years of rituals, conducted yearly, sometimes monthly. Sometimes more. The exact timing and particular rituals are determined by tradition and by decision of the elders."

Susan considered this. "Who or what has determined your mourning period in this instance?"

"No one," Delenn replied shortly. "I am almost old enough to be considered an elder in clan Mir, but I have removed myself from their authority. It was necessary once I became President of the Alliance. The other members did not wish to feel that I remained subservient to any particular group of Minbari. It is very like the renunciation ceremony of the Anla'Shok."

"I see," said Susan. "I've attended one of those. It seems very difficult, for the Minbari candidates in particular."

"It can be. I had gone my own way for so long that it was not such a hardship," said Delenn

Delenn's voice held steady, but Susan detected a hint of strong emotion underneath. "Still, it must be a wrench. What do you do on feast days and at Festival, and what temple do you attend?"

"I am still of clan Mir. I merely hold no position of authority, and am not recognized as part of the clan hierarchy. There was no repudiation, Susan, no rejection. And when I step down as President, I will assume my place among my clan." Delenn spoke dispassionately.

Susan cocked her head and looked at her friend. "But for now, you answer to to no one."

A glint shown in Delenn's eye, "That is correct, but only in one aspect. I defer to the Alliance charter, and to the vote of its membership."

Susan snorted. "You don't defer to any one; you never did."

"That is not true," replied Delenn calmly. Then she smiled. "And Minbari never lie, as you know."

Shaking her head, Susan said, "It's not going to work, you realize. I'm not letting this go."

Delenn's face froze. "You will because you must. I will rest when there is need."

Susan looked at her friend in exasperation. "I'm only trying to help!" Gathering together the threads of her rapidly fraying temper, she asked carefully, "Why is this ritual so important?"

Taking a deep breath, as if to calm herself, Delenn replied, "Tell me, do you think often of Marcus?"

It was Susan's turn to stop, holding her face completely still while she felt a familiar fury build. "Now and then," she answered in a clipped voice.

"You carry his denn'bok," observed Delenn. "The new holder is working well for you?" She tilted her head, and leaned closer, as if to examine the workmanship of the carvings in the hard fabric holster and shoulder belt.

Susan swallowed hard, then said, "It's easier to pull out carried like this. I was always getting it tangled in the pocket of this damn cloak."

"Do you remember the circumstances in which you received this bequest?" Delenn pushed on.

"Of course I do!" Susan exploded. "Stephen gave it to me, just before I left the station for my posting to the Titans. He said he thought Marcus would want me to have it." Her face paled at the long-ago scene, recalled in painful detail, as was its aftermath, although that memory carried less pain.

Delenn continued in her instructional tone. "The passing of a weapon such as this is an important event. They are not owned, as such, rather they are held for a time, carried in honor, and gifted with meaning. The fact that Durhan presented it to Marcus at the completion of his mora'dum was a curious gesture to many. As his teacher and mentor, Durhan saw something in Marcus, and the gift gave it expression."

Now a little confused, Susan asked, "But Stephen gave it to me...did Marcus leave instructions with him? I always assumed he must have, but Marcus couldn't have known what was going to happen..." Her voice tailed off.

"It was a time of war, and there was always the chance," replied Delenn gravely. "But it was not Marcus who decided on this course. It was my decision. As Entil'zha, I felt it was the right thing to do; for you, and for Marcus."

"Your decision," said Susan flatly. Hostility welled up in her; she hated being manipulated. "And why did you make this particular decision? It would have been better for the thing to return to Minbar; it's haunted me for years!"

"The weapon has no power over you," replied Delenn. "It is your own grief and regret that haunts you."

Susan stood up abruptly, her cloak lashing around her as she strode over to the railing at the edge of the balcony, gripping the cold steel. "Regret? My God, Delenn, what do you know about regret?" She leaned forward, letting the freshening wind chill her face. Speaking into the rush of cool air, she said, "There's an old human saying... 'better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.' " Bile filled her throat, forcing out the cruel words. "At least you had your twenty years. Talia..." Her voice faltered, but she took a breath and continued. "Talia was gone before I even realized I loved her." Continuing bitterly, she added, "And I'll never know for sure if I loved Marcus... or could have loved him." Looking down, she began to pace back and forth, the morning sun leaving tattered shadows in her wake. "It seems like I always miss my chance. My whole life I've always been one step behind, racing to catch up with those I love, and failing." A surge of desperate longing edged her voice with resentment.

Delenn's face registered shock at Susan's outburst. She began to speak but Susan, overwhelmed by years of emotion let more words pour out; rough, harsh, raw. "My mother's curse and her death twisted my whole family. My brother ran away to war and was killed. My father and I ended up not speaking for years, reconnecting only briefly just before he died." A smile flitted across Susan's lips, brief and cold. "Do you remember when we went to Z'ha'dum?" She watched with some satisfaction as the color fled Delenn' face. "I heard my father, calling out to me. _Yizkor_, he said, remembrance. He has no son to honor his memory, and my life is no memorial to him."

"Susan, I did not mean to deny your pain or your life experience..." Delenn, for once, seemed at a loss for words, but after a moment she managed to add, "I too, lost my father before we had a chance to reconcile. As for my mother, well, in a way, I lost her as well."

Susan scrutinized her friend intently before asking suddenly, "Did you perform the ritual for your father?" Delenn nodded, but Susan sensed hesitation hidden behind the quick assent. "What about your mother?" In an attempt to shake loose some answers, she added harshly, "Did you mourn your mother when she went away? For how long?"

"I..." Delenn hesitated, then said firmly, "There was no need for remembrance. My mother remained this side of the Rim."

"How long?" Susan demanded, trying to modulate her voice, but not succeeding.

Delenn looked down at the back of her hands, noticing the prominent veins surrounded by fine lines. She answered softly, "A few months," then added reluctantly, "maybe a year." She went on, explaining in protest, "I was very young. I did not understand why she had to leave me."

"Understanding isn't required for grief, Delenn," Susan said, sudden rage almost choking her. "Grief comes before understanding. It's raw and personal. It's real."

"I know that!" Delenn's jagged voice cut through the cool wind, which had continued to strengthen as the day began. She added, voice tight and low in an effort to regain control, "Do you think I do not know that?" She rose and joined Susan at the balcony, looking out over the city below. Pain bled through her faltering composure as she continued, "My mother left me with a legacy of service; my father with a legacy of honor. John left me a son, and the Alliance he sacrificed so much to establish." Her voice shook with emotion, "The rituals bring him back to me, in memory still bright, but..." She turned to Susan, her eyes bright with tears, "It is not enough, Susan. I perform the ritual to remember, but memory is not enough."

Susan winced at the desolation she heard in Delenn's voice, and said thickly, "No. It's not." She added, her voice pricked with pain, "I'm sorry, Delenn. I do understand. My mother left Papa and Ganya and me alone, and now there's only me left to remember them. But Marcus left nothing behind, nothing except this weapon, and my life."

"And now you will lead the Anla'Shok, carrying his denn'bok, and his memory, forward." Delenn touched Susan gently on the arm, but Susan remained apart, arms crossed tight in front of her.

"I am only here because you asked me to do it, and John wanted me to do it!" Susan said. "It's crazy, how can I possibly be the right person for the job? I don't even know the language that well! I still have to give complex instructions via a translator." Her face twisted, "Marcus used to do that for me."

"I know," Delenn said sadly. "His was a life of service, to me, to the Anla'Shok, to you... but I believe he found peace at the last."

"How can you say that? Marcus didn't find anything. He gave up, just like my mother." Susan's arms fell to her side, hands clenched.

"He did not give up. He gave himself...for you." Delenn put her hand over Susan's closed fist. "Why are you here?" She looked steadily into Susan's eyes. "Why did you agree to this?"

"You asked." Susan said shortly. "I thought you wanted me."

"I do," replied Delenn. She took hold of Susan's cold hands and placed them together between her two warm ones. "But why did you agree?"

"All this time," Susan began, then continued thoughtfully, "All this time there has been something missing. My career in EarthForce was all I ever wanted. My own ship, exploration, promotion. I got it all. But it wasn't enough."

"That is part of the reason. But it is not the whole reason." Delenn chafed Susan's hands, "You are freezing."

"I don't know," Susan replied, frustrated with Delenn's questioning. "I guess, if you must know, I felt...called."

"Ah," Delenn said, looking deeply into her eyes, as if trying to read something in them. "You followed your heart?"

"I followed something." Susan looked back at Delenn with suspicion. "What's this all about? And how did we end up talking about me when it's your behavior that's in question?"

Delenn smiled, dropping Susan's hands and turning again to look out over the city. "You know the rest of the saying? 'Minbari never lie, but they never tell the whole truth'?" She looked back over her shoulder at Susan. "I told you it was my decision to send the denn'bok to you. That is not the entire story."

Susan raised one eyebrow and said in resignation, "And you're going to tell me the whole story now?"

"Perhaps not everything," confessed Delenn with a downward glance. "I did, and do believe Marcus would have wanted you to have Durhan's weapon, but the idea originally came from another."

"Who?" said Susan impatiently.

"Jeffrey Sinclair first suggested to me that you would be an excellent Anla'Shok Na. Before he went into the past in order to fulfill his future." Delenn looked at Susan steadily, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Jeff said that?" Susan's voice broke on the name. "He wanted me here?"

"He did. And John did. And I do." Delenn turned back towards the door. "And I suspect Marcus would have agreed. Wait here a moment. I have something else for you."

Susan turned back to the view, watching fire light the mountainsides as the sun reached long fingers down the slopes. The tips of buildings caught and glowed in the morning light, and panes of glass and crystal facades burned bright. Closing her eyes, she saw their after-images dance behind her eyelids. Other images crowded her brain; Jeff at her father's shiva, Marcus on board the White Star speaking Adronato to her, John's smiling embrace after his return from Z'ha'dum. What did they all see in her? Why did they think she could do this?

Delenn returned, her arms full of soft brown and yellow silk. "Valen's robes. He would want...he did want you to have them." Delenn bowed slightly, and held them out to Susan. "Entil'zha," she affirmed in a clear voice.

Susan's hands trembled as she took the robes and shook them out. "Delenn, I..."

"Say nothing." Delenn added, "Take them when you are ready."

Susan looked from the bundle in her arms back to Delenn. "These are Jeff's?" she asked.

Delenn almost laughed at her expression of doubt. "Not the exact same ones. It is the material and the method of their manufacture that gives them their authority." She cocked her head at Susan, "Did you think I wore the robes that had fit Jeffrey...and that John wore mine?"

"I guess not," Susan smiled. "I guess I thought it was some sort of Minbari thing."

Delenn said in mock-serious tones. "We are not magic-workers, Susan. Minbari put on their robes one arm at a time just as you do." Susan shot her an admonishing glance. Delenn continued, "You should not blame Marcus for valuing your life above his own," she said, with sympathy and deep understanding, "It is something you do, when you love someone."

Susan walked over to the stone bench and gently laid down the folded robes. Turning back to Delenn, she put one hand on her friend's shoulder, and said, "I can't accept these, not now. But thank you." Then, pulling Delenn into a close embrace, she whispered again, "Thank you for telling me this, for giving me this chance. I'll do my best to deserve it." Susan thought that this gift, this chance had probably saved her life.

* * *

_The Talmud notes that all people are descended from a single person, thus taking a single life is like destroying an entire world, and saving a single life is like saving an entire world. _


	2. Recognition

_Part Two: Recognition_

Weeks bled into months until it was going on a year since Susan had first been offered her new position on Minbar, since John had left for wherever he'd gone. Delenn still performed the remembrance ritual each morning, and Susan had given up challenging her on it. She simply kept an eye on her friend's health, and tried to lighten her schedule when the older woman seemed excessively tired. Her own schedule was so tight and their duties so different that at times all she could do was alert Delenn's staff and terrorize them into helping. Luckily they shared Susan's concerns and had learned that the human's bark was worse than her bite. As a result, they cooperated with her plans enthusiastically, if discreetly.

The Rangers, backed by a good deal of the Minbari populace, wanted to hold a remembrance of their own commemorating the first anniversary of John's disappearance. To Delenn's distress and Susan's disgust, they seemed to have invested John with an aura of myth similar to that which surrounded Valen. _Or King Arthur_, Susan fumed as she wended her way to Delenn's quarters. _Just like the Minbari to appropriate a stupid legend like that._ She thought back to the time when the ersatz King Arthur had visited the station. Marcus had wanted to let the poor man remain happy in his delusion, and Delenn had played along just as she had with that crazy guy who'd been looking for the Holy Grail. Probably they had had a point. Susan had given up on the inherent superiority of reality, although she wasn't ready to embrace delusions of grandeur as Marcus had suggested. Still, the idea that John was waiting around out in the ether to return when needed by the Alliance was repulsive. It upset Delenn, but it enraged her.

Susan's boots clicked on the marble floor and her cape flapped around her calves as she walked. Valen's robes remained in Delenn's quarters, carefully stored away until Susan felt she was entitled to put them on. Having settled into the job after the usual adjustments to a new command, Susan was now enjoying the position of Ranger One. But she continued to resist the last ritual, the taking of Valen's robes. She definitely didn't deserve the title of Entil'zha, born first by Valen himself, so many years ago; then by Delenn, Jeffrey Sinclair, and John Sheridan in recent memory. When she told this to Delenn, the Minbari woman had just smiled and shook her head, as if Susan was merely postponing the inevitable.

Alliance affairs were going smoothly for once, and much of Delenn's time was spent dealing with the proposed memorials to John as best she could. Today, she had asked Susan to look over the suggestions and help her pick out the least offensive. It was about halfway through the long Minbari autumn, and Susan had planned to spend the time watching the outdoor training sessions. The new Ranger recruits were promising as always, given the competitive trials they endured to even be chosen for training. Still a significant number washed out early. She liked getting a look at them in the beginning, and privately laid odds against herself as to who would make it, and who would not. It was important to keep standards high, and perversely it made membership in the Anla'Shok even more sought after.

Reaching the door to Delenn's quarters, she paused to give the Ranger honor guard the once-over. Not too bad, she thought, and given how many applicants she had for the position, they had better be. Delenn seemed to take the prestige of her office for granted, but Susan knew at times her friend chafed under the restrictions laid on her. She touched her fingertip to the pad by the door, glared at the iris scanner, and waited for the door to open. The gleaming metal door snicked back into the walls on either side, leaving a wide opening through which she sauntered. "Delenn?" she called, not seeing anyone at first.

"I am in here," came the answer, and Susan headed towards the dining room. Spread up one side of the table and halfway down the other were sets of colored folders. A large screen was set up on one wall, and Delenn was programming in a series of commands by hand, inserting data crystals from a hand-held storage unit. One end of the table held the makings for tea, and an assortment of various foods, both Minbari and human. A stack of sandwiches on the thin seeded bread favored by the Minbari grabbed Susan's attention at once, and her mouth began to water and her stomach gave a slight rumble. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, just after dawn, which Delenn had undoubtedly guessed.

"What's all this?" Susan said, gesturing at the folders. "And what's for lunch?" she added as Delenn returned to the table.

"Those sandwiches you said reminded you of...what was the word? Cucumber! That was it, the ones that went well with tea?" replied Delenn. "And other things. The sandwiches were all I requested from the kitchens, since I knew you liked them. The rest is their idea of a light repast for two women." Wrinkling her nose and gesturing at the platters, she said, "I think they have decided I am not eating enough again."

Susan laughed, "They worry, that's all. You're a national treasure, or something like that." Delenn glared at her, and Susan laughed, "You've got to be used to it by now!"

"I will never be 'used to it' as you say. Every life is important, and mine no any more than any other's," declared Delenn defiantly. "And as for these..." She looked at the folders with despair.

Susan picked one up and flipped through it. The Minbari script was large and carefully drawn, as if by a child. Glancing at the bottom, she saw a signature, Tee'sa ra'Ven, and then below it, Age 8 cycles. "Are you taking on another job, school teacher perhaps?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

Delenn gestured helplessly. "The local Academies set this as a project for the younger classes, to come up with a suitable memorial for John. The suggestions have been culled down to these twenty, and I am supposed to choose one. It will be constructed and dedicated at the memorial observance."

Susan snorted and shook her head. "This is getting way out of hand," She looked through the drawings, "And I don't know how I am supposed to help with these!" She picked up the transparency and held it up to the light. "This one seems to be a life-size portrait done in crystalline mosaic pieces. No way," she shook her head. "Are they all like this?"

"Most of them are," replied Delenn. "A few are not so bad. I have laid them here at this end, so we can look at them over lunch. I particularly liked this one, with the perpetual flame atop a triangular prism. One side has an etched representation of Earth, one of Minbar, and the third has the Babylon 5 station. The child has a sense of history, and a small degree of aesthetic taste."

"Sounds good," said Susan. "But we'll look at all the ones you've selected. The kids will probably have better sense than the adults in this case. Some of the ideas that have passed my desk...who knew the Anla'Shok were such sentimentalists?" Picking up a sandwich, she folded the triangle in half and stuffed it in her mouth. Chewing and swallowing, she said glumly, "Though I suppose I should have suspected it, given Marcus' proclivities."

"Marcus was a good man, who cared deeply about other people but cloaked that caring in light-hearted words." Delenn took a seat, and the cup of tea that Susan handed her. Picking up another folder, she examined it with a sigh, and placed it in the discard pile.

Susan took a look inside and whistled, "A Minbari opera of John's life, three hours long, and performed nightly for two full months! He would have loved that." Delenn glanced at her in surprise, and she laughed. "Kidding, I'm kidding!" Rapidly glancing through the rest of the folders, she said, "I think you picked the best one already...an eternal flame is a common memorial on Earth. There's one in Geneva, commemorating the dead from the Earth-Minbari War."

Delenn didn't register any emotion on her face, but Susan noticed her hand shook slightly as she took the folder and placed it aside, before saying calmly, "I will see my aide notifies the school. The child will be invited to the unveiling; it will be a singular honor for her and her clan."

Susan took another sandwich from the pile. She took one bite, then set it down on the small plate in front of her. Delenn had that stretched look again, as if her skin was thinning and letting the light within shine through. And the light was not a luminous glow, but rather a dimly flickering flame. "Are you all right?" she asked, eyes searching Delenn's face. She put her hand over top of Delenn's hands, both of which lay loosely settled on the table between them, acting more like a barrier than a bridge.

"It is just this idea of a memorial," Delenn confessed. "I do not mind them celebrating John's life, but it feels rather more like a celebration of his death." Her voice shook as she continued, "He is gone, and they do not seem to understand this, or appreciate what it means."

"And what does it mean?" asked Susan, trying to keep the conversation going. Delenn was too apt to withdraw any time she tried to get her to open up. Maybe this idiotic ceremony would be useful in some ways.

Delenn sighed heavily. "It means disruption and discord. The Alliance senses a lessening of my authority with John's passing beyond the Rim, and they mean to take advantage of it. It has been building for months."

Susan pinched her lips together. "Typical. But that will pass. You've lined up support from all the major systems. The Minbari are behind you..." At Delenn's slight shake of the head, Susan stopped, then continued, "They're not behind you?"

"Most of them are. There are factions..." Delenn picked at the few items on her plate. "It will be fine," she said firmly. "Nothing for you to worry about."

Susan gripped Delenn's hands tightly, "It is my business to worry, and my job to take care of you," she replied. Wondering a bit at the intensity of her concern, she reached out one hand, and tucked a strand of hair behind her friend's ear. "You need to talk more about this stuff. Even if I don't understand all the ramifications, I can listen." Her hand lingered on Delenn's cheek, and she felt a gentle pressure as the older woman leaned into her touch. The implied acceptance of her caress sent a sudden rush of warmth through Susan. It felt good. She'd lived on her own so long, with acquaintances and co-workers, fellow officers and civilian EarthForce staff, but no true friends, no intimates. It felt very good.

Delenn gave a small sigh, a puff of warmth against her palm, and Susan took her hand away, unsettled by the strength of her reaction. She went on in a determined tone, "Let's finish this excellent lunch, and then you're coming with me to look over the new recruits. It's a beautiful day and you don't get out enough. Some fresh air will do you good." Delenn was already shaking her head, but Susan just grinned at her. "You told me you cleared your schedule to go over these submissions with me. We've done that, you've made your choice, now you're free to come with me."

Delenn hesitated another moment, but then her smile beamed as bright and clear as the autumn sun lancing through the tall windows. "It has been too long since I attended an Anla'Shok training session. It is a good idea! I thank you, Susan."

They spent over two hours walking the grounds, observing the training session, and discussing the current political situation. Delenn found her mood lightening as they walked, and her hand crept towards Susan's more than once. She stopped herself, uncertain of the human conventions, blaming the impulse on the familiarity of the occasion. After all, she had done all this before, with John. That was all it was; a kind of physical memory. It had to be. Still, it was good to be out of doors, walking with a friend who remembered, and who understood.

As for Susan, she found herself becoming more aware of Delenn's physical presence. Over the next week awareness gave way to attraction. Susan was pretty sure Delenn had no idea about these feelings. Uneasily, Susan decided it was probably best to keep it that way. Her emotional connection with Delenn had become easy and effortless; they were able to communicate across a conference room with just a look. Delenn had opened up more and more the longer Susan had been there, sharing her hopes and fears for the now established, but still vulnerable, Alliance. Susan had fallen into the role of second to Delenn's leadership position, as smoothly as she'd once backed up Jeff Sinclair, and later John Sheridan. Delenn used her as sounding board and at times, emotional outlet. Susan tapped Delenn's extensive knowledge of the Anla'Shok, coming to her with questions regarding history and tradition. But she never let Delenn usurp her role as commander, and to Susan's relief, the Minbari woman never tried. They were equal authorities in their separate areas, but when they combined in joint agreement, they were formidable indeed.

The next few weeks saw them interacting more and more over the planned ceremony. It was to take place in a public square in the center of Tuzanoor rather than on either the Academy grounds or at Alliance headquarters. Susan protested this decision vehemently, since security would be that much more difficult in such a public arena. Delenn was adamant that it remain open and accessible. Once the event had become inevitable she'd rather thrown herself into it, determined that the speeches and eulogies be based in reality rather than emboss the burgeoning legend.

A few days before the ceremony they sat lingering over breakfast. Susan sipped her coffee, watching Delenn wince as she tasted some laced with a synthetic cream substitute Susan had brought with her. "Never got used to it, did you?" Susan stated with a brief smile.

Delenn shook her head. "Even with the traditional additives it is bitter stuff. Of course it has its uses." She pushed the cup to one side, and gratefully accepted a fresh one from Susan, filled this time with sennsa'tri tea. Carefully she watched as Susan turned her own cup around and around in the saucer, watching the swirl of the dark liquid. The mood this morning was thoughtful, almost somber and Delenn was just about to inquire as to what was wrong when Susan suddenly asked, "You remember when John came back from Z'ha'dum?"

Delenn shuddered briefly, then replied uneasily, "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"It's just similar, the attitudes we're seeing; the determination to stick him up high on a pedestal, everyone looking to him to solve all their problems even when he's no longer here," Susan began to poke absently at the thin slices of fruit on her plate. They had been laid out in a delicate fan pattern; now they were a jumbled mess.

"I have hopes that attitude will fade in time." Delenn poured herself another cup of tea. "They did before. There are those who are almost as bad about me. In time they may come to regard you with such reverence as well. How would you deal with that eventuality?" she asked curiously.

"God, I don't know," said Susan. "I cultivated an aura of invincibility on the station, and it came in useful aboard ship, but it's not comfortable, not at the level we're seeing here. 'Ivanova is God' I used to say, but I never actually wanted to be one."

"Neither did I," replied Delenn. She crumbled a roll slowly on her plate. "Did I ever tell you I was offered leadership of the Grey Council at one time?" Picking up a linen cloth she swept the crumbs from her fingertips. "It would have meant spending the rest of my life aboard the Valen'tha, never to set foot on a planet again, only to see those on the Council or those who served it."

"Not a job I'd like myself," replied Susan. Tilting her head and examining Delenn closely, she said, "What did you say to the offer?"

"I refused it, of course," said Delenn. "It was viewed as a grave insult at the time. Against all tradition. I've often wondered if my refusal influenced the Council's decision to refuse us assistance in the War." She smiled ruefully at Susan, "Many of my decisions at that time were believed to have been unduly influenced by my preoccupation with humans."

"Maybe one particular human?" asked Susan, staring down at her plate. It wasn't like she didn't already know the answer to that question. She didn't know why she was asking.

"Maybe. Not yet, not at that time. I think. I do not know," Delenn said thoughtfully, wondering in turn why Susan had put the question that way. "There were so many conflicting desires, so many prophecies, so many expectations; at times I did not know what to think."

"I remember," said Susan. "No one was sure what to think of you either. After your change, I mean. Remember that awful woman from ISN?"

Delenn pressed her lips tight against the memory. "She was right to question my motives. I was not certain of them myself. And after all, she knew nothing of the prophecies, or the Vorlons' plans; only our history with your people. It was not a history that would lead to trust or acceptance."

"Still, she sandbagged you with that interview. I suppose it's part of being a journalist, but it's not a very nice part." Susan shook her head. "It's not like you fought the war against us single-handedly." She reached for a brushed steel carafe and poured herself another cup of coffee. Delenn had arranged for the beans to be imported from one of the nearer Earth colonies especially for her. Susan herself still had hope that the small coffee plant she'd brought with her would eventually bear fruit.

Delenn's hands lay still in her lap, her head bowed and her shoulders slumped. Susan looked at her with alarm, and set down her cup with a slight crash into the saucer. "Hey, what'd I say?" When Delenn did not answer, she scooted her chair over and put one arm around Delenn's shoulders and asked anxiously, "Are you feeling all right?" Inwardly she cursed her own stupidity; first bring up the place where John had died, at least the first time, then remind Delenn of that awful reporter.

Delenn squared her shoulders and raised her eyes to meet Susan's. "There is something I need to tell you."

"Go ahead," replied Susan. "I'm listening."

Delenn shook her head. "It is not that easy..." Sitting back in her chair, she gently, and reluctantly, disengaged from Susan's casual embrace. Placing her hands palm down on the table, as if to steady herself, she began. "The Minbari do not have a tradition of raising monuments to the dead. That is why this ceremony is so difficult. The fact that my people want this means that they do not believe that John is dead, not as your people understand death. They believe that he has moved to another phase of existence, that he is still here in some way."

Susan tried to keep perfectly still, not wanting to break the flow of Delenn's confidence. It was a roundabout discussion but that's how the Minbari were, circling round and round a topic, approaching it obliquely. That was when they weren't being cryptic on purpose.

Delenn continued, but with a seeming change of subject. "You mentioned a monument in Geneva, to do with the war."

Susan nodded. "A memorial to those who died in the Earth-Minbari War. I've laid a wreath there, for my brother Ganya. It's an eternal flame, set in a circle of interlocking triangles of black slate, and white and deep purple marble. The colors are those related to mourning in various Earth cultures."

Delenn winced briefly, then looking down at her hands, carefully examining the criss-cross pattern of light blue veins across the back that were more prominent each year. Speaking slowly and carefully, she said, "The thing is...I started the war."

Susan froze in place, remaining physically close to Delenn, but feeling as if a chasm had opened between them. "What do you mean?"

"The war was begun in error, a misunderstanding on the part of our people and of yours. The decision to turn a tragic mistake into a colossal tragedy was mine."

The words fell into the deep well of silence that had opened between them. Susan looked inward for a moment, testing her own emotions, and found only a dull ache of regret. Looking at Delenn, she was shocked to see age settle in the shallow lines on her face. She cleared her throat and asked, "What did you do exactly?"

"I had just joined the Council. When your ship fired on ours, and Dukhat was killed, mine was the deciding vote for war rather than peace, for attack rather than talk." Delenn raised her eyes to meet Susan's. There were ghosts hidden in the depths. "It was my fault."

Susan considered this for a moment. One vote of five for war, and how many years spent expiating what was obviously a deep feeling of guilt...she sighed inwardly. It was all so many years ago. Then a thought struck her. "Did John know?"

"I never told him," Delenn confessed. "I do not know if he knew, but he never said anything." She smiled wanly, "John did not spend much time with the reformed Council, or members of the old Council either. His time was taken up with the Alliance. I was our liaison to the Minbari government."

"Why didn't you tell him?" Answers flashed through her mind, but she kept silent, waiting for Delenn to reach an equilibrium.

Delenn put one hand to her temple, as if to quell a sharp pain, and answered slowly. "I had already appealed to him for forgiveness once. Not telling him my suspicions about Anna...betraying his trust in me; that he could forgive that transgression was more than I could have ever expected. After the Shadow War, I considered telling him, but we had decided, together, to focus on our lives in the present. We lived in the moment, enjoying every moment we had. It was never the right time."

"That doesn't make any sense, Delenn!" Susan couldn't help it; her voice rose in volume and gained a sharp edge. "If he'd already forgiven you over Anna, why not this?"

"I know it is contradictory, but I am not a being of pure logic," Delenn flashed back.

"Why tell me?" Susan found herself at sea with this turmoil of emotions. "Why tell me when you didn't feel the need to tell John?"

Delenn stood up, moving carefully towards the long windows that led out to the balcony. She shifted a thin veil of curtain and looked out at the brightening landscape. The city lay in the distance, the great public park a triangle of green surrounded by grey stone pathways and short blue walls. "The memorial," she answered. "You said it reminded you of the one on Earth. I know you lost family in the war. This is a personal matter for you, and there will be an ever-present reminder here. We will have to work closely together, I hope for years..." She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window. "Besides, I find I am tired of secrets."

"Well." Susan sat at the table and began to tap her fork against the edge of her plate, wondering what she could say. The whole thing didn't seem that important to her, crazy things happened in the heat of battle, and Delenn had spent her life fighting for and alongside humans, more than making up for one bad decision. The tension in her friend's posture showed the importance of what she said next. Blowing out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, she said, "I won't say it doesn't matter, because it does. It matters to you. If it's forgiveness you want, I'm not sure I'm the one to give it, but for what it's worth, you have it."

Delenn didn't move, and Susan got up and came up behind her. The sun was blinding now, and Delenn's hand was twisted in the dull green gauze of the curtains, pulling it tight against her chest. Susan touched her gently on the shoulder, moving close enough to feel the warmth, both from the other woman's body, and the autumnal sun. "Are you afraid I won't be able to handle this?"

"Yes," came the soft reply. "Afraid, that is, that I...that is we, the Alliance and the Anla'Shok, might lose you."

"Not likely," replied Susan. "You're stuck with me." She put her arms around Delenn from behind, briefly surrounding her with a light embrace. "I quit my other job, you know. Resigned my commission. I've got nowhere else to go." Delenn leaned back against her, and Susan could feel the tension draining from her friend's body. This felt right, both the offer and receipt of support and comfort.

"Then we will not speak of this again," said Delenn. It was self-indulgent, she thought, to stand there and take comfort from one she had wronged, but she couldn't make herself move away. Susan's sturdy support, her friendship, made her feel safe. Confession, the humans said, was good for the soul. Relief lit a warm glow inside her, and she felt years of guilt unwind and fall away. The glow burned even brighter as Susan gently rested her cheek against Delenn's hair, a movement so soft and quick Delenn wasn't entirely sure it had happened. Her heart sped up and she remained perfectly still, wondering what meaning she should attach to Susan's actions, and what was the proper ritual response. But it had been a highly emotional moment. That was probably all it was, an affectionately human reaction to the catharsis of confession and forgiveness, easily misinterpreted. Her own reactions she would examine later, in privacy.

A chime sounded in the outer room, and Delenn moved back towards the table. Checking the time on her tablet, she sighed aloud. "I have to go now. Another meeting of the Commission on Agricultural Trade has been called for this morning. Usually I would send an aide to take notes and report back, but there are some wrinkles to the new agreements that need discussion."

"What could they possibly be discussing that would need your attention?" asked Susan, bemused. She picked up her cup and quickly drained the lukewarm coffee in preparation to leave.

"Earth is going to lease the genetic code for several varieties of your coffee plants to Minbar. Our scientists feel they can develop a strain adapted to the Minbari climate." Delenn picked up her tablet and smiled at Susan, unable to keep the mischief from her voice. "Coffee, it turns out, is both a light intoxicant and an aphrodisiac to my people. It's become quite popular here, but it is expensive to import."

Susan spluttered a bit as she set down her cup and followed Delenn from the room. Maybe that coffee plant in her room would come in handy some day...

After all the details for the memorial ceremony were in progress or complete, Delenn took half a day off from her regular duties to prepare herself. Even though there was no tradition among the Minbari for such memorials, there were rituals she felt called upon to perform. Aside from the traditional rituals of remembrance, she added portions of a re-birth ceremony. The dedication of the memorial was being seen by others as a turning point, a change of direction; she had decided to examine it from that viewpoint. Her own emotions in regard to John's memorial had been mixed at first, then clear, then had become clouded once again. She needed time and she needed privacy.

Delenn was self-aware enough to realize that she had become closer to Susan than anyone else currently in her life. It was a relationship she cherished. At times she found herself wondering what Susan thought of this closeness. Her friend could be impersonal and logical during working hours, then warm and almost tender in their private interactions. It was confusing, and at times Delenn felt as if she was walking on the edge of a precipice. Today she would try to sort out this mix of emotions, and regain her equilibrium so that her focus, and the focus of the ceremony, stayed on John.

After several hours of meditation, she rose slowly from the floor, feeling stiff and awkward. Age was unimportant, and yet its effects were still felt. The chime from her comunit continued to sound as she approached the screen. 'Yes,' she said to the blank screen, initiating contact with the caller.

"Hey Delenn." Susan's voice came through full of warmth and concern. "How are the rituals coming? You've been out of contact all day long."

Delenn flushed, paradoxically pleased that Susan had bothered to check on her. "I am fine," she said. "The rituals are almost completed."

Susan cocked her head and asked, "Do you want to get together this evening? For dinner maybe?"

Delenn suddenly felt a flash of memory, of John asking a similar question. "I..." she hesitated visibly.

Susan's eyes clouded over. "I see. Well, you'd better get back. I've got some work to finish myself before the ceremony."

Delenn started to protest, then realized as emotions catapulted through her that she wanted, no needed, more time to process what she was feeling. "I do have some more to accomplish," she said, surprised by the intensity of her disappointment, even though it was her own decision. "Perhaps we should meet tomorrow?"

Susan nodded, and flashed a brief smile. "See you then."

Delenn inclined her head back in the position between respect and affection. "Farewell."

The day of the memorial dedication broke clear and fine. A chill had set in that past week, presaging a hard and early winter, but this day was unexpectedly warm. Susan groused to herself a bit; having to wear her dress uniform, layers of cloth topped off by that ridiculous cape, was going to be less pleasant in the sunny weather. She arrived early, going over the security measures again with her Rangers. They were manning the perimeter, the stage, and also were set at intervals among the crowd to watch for trouble. None was expected; everything had been going smoothly, but Susan believed in preparation for the worst.

Delenn was being escorted by her honor guard to the stage when Susan finally finished her inspection. She made her way to the low platform, which surrounded the memorial in a semi-circle. Taking her place at Delenn's side, she watched the crowd while the speeches began, and continued on into midday. The children of the city Academies were seated in rows just in front of the platform, on benches erected for the purpose. Susan glanced down at them, so straight and still. Not a squirmer or a whiner among them; they seemed focused on the ceremony. She saw one girl looking back at her, and bowed her head slightly to the child. A rapid grin flashed across the little girl's face, and she waved her hand at Susan surreptitiously, then anxiously looked down the row towards her tutor, who was oblivious to her charge's forward behavior. Susan suddenly felt more at home than she had since she'd arrived on Minbar. Kids were the same everywhere, even the good ones were capable of trying to put something over on the teacher. She wondered what Delenn had been like as a girl, and looked forward to asking her friend some probing questions later.

The children were standing, ready to leave, filing out row by row, when Susan felt the hair on the back of her neck rise to attention. Something wasn't right. Scanning the crowd, she caught sight of two of her Rangers converging on a human standing just behind the kids and directly in front of the crystal pyramid. Glancing to her right, she saw Delenn standing just behind the memorial, having just lit the flame. There was no time to think, only to react, and she moved towards Delenn, shouting 'Get down!' Her outstretched hands contacted Delenn, pushing her further away as time stretched and extended. A bright light seemed to both obscure and outshine John's flame. There was screaming, and then nothing; no light, no sound, no motion or sensation.

Susan opened her eyes. It was dark. No, there was a spot of light; she could just see it out of the corner of her left eye. Turning her head to focus on the light, she felt a thrumming ache in her temple. It was so strong it made her stomach turn over, and she quickly returned her head to its original position. She must have made a noise, because the next thing she knew, a familiar face swam into place over hers. Everything was out-of-focus and hard to see in the dim light that danced to her left.

"Delenn?" she managed to say. Her voice was rough and harsh and sounded loudly in her ears, setting her head to aching again. Where was she anyway? Moving her hands, she felt soft fabrics, silky underneath and velvety on top.

"You are awake!"

Delenn's voice sounded like a trumpet and Susan winced at the sound. The next words were softer, almost whispered. "Is that better?"

Susan couldn't seem to locate the correct words, and Delenn went on, concern obvious in her voice.

"Can you hear me? You were hurt in the explosion, do you remember?"

Susan tried to shake her head, but regretted that immediately. Finally she managed to say, "I hear you all right, but I don't remember any explosion. What happened? Was anyone hurt?" Anxiety flared through her, cutting through the pain, and she tried to sit up. "Were you hurt? Where am I?"

"I am fine," replied Delenn, putting her hands on Susan's shoulders. "Lie still. You have a concussion, and a fractured skull. The healer was impressed. He says your head is as hard as a Minbari's."

"I suppose you think that's a good thing," grumbled Susan. "But you still haven't told me where I am." Moving her eyes instead of her head was slightly better in the pain department. "This isn't the Medical facilities."

"You are in my quarters," replied Delenn.

"Why?" asked Susan bluntly. Her eyes were adjusting to the dim light, just visible to the left, which by its motion was candle light. She could see the outline of Delenn's figure, sitting on the side of the bed, quite close to her. Checking her own body, relieved to find all four limbs intact, she found she was wearing some kind of sleepwear, silken pants and a button up shirt. "How did I get here?"

"I had you brought here. They would not let me stay with you in the Medical facility, and I refused to leave you alone. This was the compromise." Delenn put her hand against Susan's forehead. "They have remote sensors in the room, but I like to check myself. No fever, and your mind seems clear."

"Clear to you maybe, but I'm still confused. What happened, Delenn? The last thing I remember we were at the ceremony in the public square...there was music, the kids were standing, filing past the crystal pyramid..." Susan's eyes widened, and her hands clutched the coverlet. "They didn't take out the kids, did they?"

"No, the explosion came as the school delegations were leaving, returning to the Academies. It was designed to take out the memorial, not directed at any specific person," Delenn explained.

Susan grimaced. "Not likely they weren't after you," she said firmly. "You were going to be in the center of things all day. If they wanted to take out the damn sculpture, there was plenty of time before or after the ceremony." She carefully examined Delenn. "You look okay. Do we know who was behind it? Are the Rangers looking for them?" Susan threw off the coverlet and swung one leg to the floor. Delenn reached for her, catching her arm to prevent her leaving the bed.

"It was a hired mercenary, a human. He took his own life as the Rangers closed in on him. We do not know his purpose in committing this act of violence." Delenn now had one arm around Susan, half holding, and half supporting her, "You must have seen something. The first I knew of any problem was your shouting at me to get down, then a bright light, and silence."

"Silence?" asked Susan. Her head was swimming with the effort she had made, and she leaned back against Delenn in relief. There was no-one to chase down, no enemy to punish. "What kind of bomb doesn't make any noise?"

"They tell me it was some kind of release of focused light. It blew the prism apart, and vaporized the particles. There were some injuries as the crowd scattered, but none were serious. Yours were the worst." Delenn was stroking Susan's hair, sweeping the chestnut waves streaked with grey away from her eyes. "After pushing me away, you were touched by the path of the beam. You flew off the back of the platform, and your head impacted one of the support pillars." Gently, she touched the back of Susan's head. "You are lucky to be alive." Fear and grief fragmented her voice as her tongue caught on the words. "Do not do this again. I cannot bear it."

Susan listened carefully in the stillness that followed Delenn's request. She heard her own heart, pounding with unspoken declarations, and Delenn's breathing, rapid and warm against her neck as she supported her. Turning slowly, she looked into Delenn's face, the eyes wide and pupils dark in the dim light. No time like the present, Susan thought. Besides, given their lives and recent events, who knew if she'd get another chance? "Mi'shal'an," Susan said, careful to keep the proper intonation. Reaching up her hand, she touched Delenn's forehead, then both eyes, then her lips. Repeating the gesture on her own face, she then placed her hand on her own heart. "Shal'an te mi," she finished.

As Susan waited she pondered the extent of her potential mistake, all the levels of inappropriate this was and how she'd ruined the most important relationship in her life by pushing it further than it was ever meant to go. Her vision blurred and she blinked away tears of frustration; it was never the right time, never the right person, not for her. She should know that by now. Squaring her shoulders, she sat upright, shifting away from Delenn, preparing her 'forget it' speech, and wondering if she could still keep her job. Probably there was a Minbari ritual for forgetting, like there was for remembering. She made a mental note to look it up when she got back to her quarters.

"I think..." Delenn's low voice cut clearly through the fog of emotion and pain covering Susan.

"I think I love you as well."

Susan would have whistled her surprise but soft lips covered hers and her astonishment dwindled first to wonder, then expanded into a joy so intense it threatened to leave her forever speechless.


	3. Acceptance

_Part Three: Acceptance_

Susan woke feeling pleasantly and unaccustomedly warm, with one arm slightly numb from lack of circulation. This time turning her head only brought a low throb, and it was soon forgotten in the stab of happiness she felt at the sight of Delenn curled up against her side, her head tucked into Susan's encircling arm. The smooth bone of the crest felt hard and warm against her shoulder, and Susan shifted slowly, trying to ease the blood back into her extremities without waking Delenn.

The light by the side of the bed was set to dim, and Susan could just see the chronometer. It was less than an hour until dawn, and she wondered if an alarm had been set. Delenn was curled into a ball, tight up against her side and breathing slowly and regularly. Susan found that she was terribly thirsty, and inched her arm out from under Delenn's head, letting it settle softly against the pillow. Then she scooted to one side, and carefully sat up. Her head ached, but not unbearably, and swinging her legs over, she slowly got up. Her whole right side was stiff and bruised, probably from the impact of her fall.

The dim light didn't extend to the doorway, and Susan felt her way, not wanting to crash into anything. Once out the door of the bedroom, she headed for the kitchen in search of some cool water. Padding across the cool tile floor of the hallway, she went through the dining room and then into the kitchen. The tall windows spilled moonlight onto the floor, and her shadow cut into the white rectangles as she moved silently through the room. She felt suddenly like an interloper, an intruder in someone else's dream, even though she had been in these rooms almost every day for a year. It was the night that made her feel unwelcome, that threw questions into stark relief in her mind, and uneasily she hurried through to the kitchen.

Once there, she ordered the lights to a comfortable and cheerful yellow glow. Pouring a glass of water, she drank deeply, feeling the liquid seep into every cell of her body. Putting down the glass, she heard the sound of a door opening and closing. Glancing into the dining room, she saw that the moonlight had given way to the soft pre-light of dawn. Sighing, she realized that Delenn had woken and gone to the balcony to attend to her daily ritual. Would it be different today, she thought? Everything felt different to her, but was it...was it really? Trying to busy her mind into some form of disciplined thought, she got out the things to prepare tea and breakfast for the two of them. The phrase was distinctly appealing and her mood lightened with the brightening sunlight visible in the next room.

"Mother?"

The voice came booming through the empty rooms. Susan recognized the voice, and pulled down another cup. She had grown fond of John's son the past year. After years of sending him gifts from every sector of space she had visited, it had been pleasant to finally get to know him. It had been a little awkward, given she had entered his life as his superior officer, but Susan had always managed to keep friendship and work separate.

"Anla'Shok Na!" David scooted to an abrupt stop and finished by standing ramrod straight in front of her.

Susan smiled and pointed at the table. "Have a seat. You had breakfast yet?" Then, as David gazed everywhere but directly at her, she looked down at her pajamas, and hesitated. Turning the kettle on, she said, "I'll just go change. You can make the tea." When she got back to the bedroom, she sat down on the edge of the bed abruptly. Things were getting complicated.

It took Susan several minutes to locate her clothes; not the ones she had been wearing, but a clean uniform Delenn had apparently requested be brought from her quarters. They were hung next to Valen's robe in Delenn's closet. Eyeballing the size, Susan realized this was the robe Delenn had had made for her. Susan shook her head; Delenn would never give up pressing for her to don the robe. Dressing swiftly, she paused to look at herself in the full-length mirror. Aside from the discreet bandage on the back of her head, and a scrape across her right cheek that highlighted a purpling bruise, she looked just like she had before the ceremony. It was like stepping back in time, like last night had never happened.

Entering the kitchen, she found that David had set the table for three, and was already drinking his first cup of tea. She noticed that he met her eyes this time, smiling in welcome, and she relaxed. As she reached for the teapot, Delenn entered the dining room from the balcony and came towards her. For a moment Susan felt caught between two aspects of herself, frozen in uncertainty as to what to do.

Delenn did not hesitate, coming up to her and sliding one arm around her waist, then reaching up to kiss Susan's cheek. Turning to see her son, who sat open-mouthed at the table, Delenn's smile broadened.

"David! I was not expecting you...are you not still on duty?" Delenn took a seat next to him, and poured herself and Susan a cup of tea. "Sit down, Susan. You are not a guest here, required to perform the Acceptance Ritual before food or drink."

David spluttered a bit, then said awkwardly, "I, uh, got permission to check on you. Because of the incident. I have to be back on patrol within the hour."

"Good," said Delenn. "Just time for breakfast then. Were you in the crowd?" she asked, suddenly concerned. "I looked over the briefing last night before Susan awoke." She paused to smile at Susan, then continued speaking to her son, "You were not hurt, were you? Or any of your cohort?"

Susan was busy doctoring her tea with sweetener, all the while looking about as if wishing she had something else to put in it. Delenn noticed her friend and her son studiously avoiding each other's eye. The tension in the atmosphere was becoming hard to ignore, even though she was very good at ignoring things that she didn't wish to see.

"I'm fine, Mother," protested David. "No one was hurt except..." his eyes slid over Susan and focused on an area just beyond her right ear. "A few cuts and bruises in the crowd, that was all."

Delenn nodded in satisfaction. "Good. This incident will soon be forgotten, and your father's memorial can be reconstructed and quietly put into place. Perhaps a private ceremony, with the three of us." She looked up and saw that David was staring into space, back straight and the fingers of his left hand tapping unsteadily on the table. Susan glanced at her, her expression tinged with guilt, and her shoulders braced and rigid.

"David," said Delenn thoughtfully, "do you know why I still perform the Ritual of Remembrance?"

His voice brusque, almost harsh, he answered her. "I suppose you want to remember him. I don't know why you need the ritual; I don't. I'll never forget him. Ever." His words came out like gunshots, rapid and clipped.

Drawing a deep breath, Delenn put her hands over his, stilling the restless tap-tapping. "But you will. As will I. Memory fades and pales in the bright light of the present. The ritual is an aid to keep the memories sharp and clear...a little longer." She spoke with the low cadence of a tolling bell. "I told a dear friend once, that while we remember them, those who have passed beyond our sight are never really gone." Her head dropped and her eyes fixed on their entwined hands. "I am no longer certain that is true."

David took her hands between his own and grasped them firmly. "Minbari can keep thousands of rituals in their heads, patterns of words and actions. I know your early training involved the memorization of all the existing prophecies of Valen, and I have heard you recite speeches of Dukhat word for word...why is this any different?"

"It is different!" Delenn flashed. "Words are dead things, unchanging and cold. And even though I tried to keep Dukhat's words alive, over time the phrasing, the emphasis, it was all lost. His voice was no longer on my lips. He was no longer there; Dukhat had been replaced by the legend of Dukhat. Memory is not what we desire; it is only a reflection of those we have lost. And sometimes, if the tie was personal and close...it is...it is not enough." Her voice faltered, having grown slow and sad. David put one arm around his mother and leaned his head against hers. It was an intensely private moment.

Susan stood and said shakily, "I should go." She looked at Delenn and said, "I need to check in at Ranger headquarters, see how the investigation is going." Nodding to David, she started for the door.

Delenn got up quickly and went to her. "You are not well. The physicians said you were to rest today."

Susan answered stiffly, "I'll check in at the medical facilities on my way back to my office. I'm fine," she said emphatically, then at the look in Delenn's eyes, she added gently, "I'll find you later. We can talk then."

"All right," said Delenn, pressing her arm. "Take care. I will see you when I see you."

Susan started off at her usual pace, but lingering aches and the occasional sharp pain at the back of her head slowed her down pretty quickly. As she walked the halls that connected Alliance headquarters with the Ranger Academy, she noticed that everyone, cadets to Alliance staff to Minbari elders bowed low as she approached. It was downright scary. The Rangers were especially reverent and more than once she heard one mutter 'Entil'zha' as she passed them with a return bow of her head. Obviously her actions at the ceremony had made some kind of impression on them.

Reaching the main office of the Academy, she entered to find everything progressing as normal. After checking her messages, and running through the files that had already been amassed on the attack the day before, she found she was at loose ends. Her normally full schedule had been cleared due to her injury, and it was a bit disconcerting to see how well things were going without her. On the other hand, she reflected, it was the sign of a well-run ship when constant supervision was not required. And it was lucky that nothing required her attention, because right now her mind was elsewhere.

Leaving the office, she started off in the direction of the medical facilities, as she'd promised to check in with the physicians, but as she became lost in thought, she also lost her way. The place was a warren, and although there were plenty of directional marks, in typical Minbari fashion they were symbolic rather than straight-forward. She stood at a vaguely familiar intersection of corridors, wondering where everyone was, when she heard the sound of bells to her left. If someone was there, she could ask directions, so off she headed to track down the source of the noise.

A set of heavy bronze doors were slightly ajar, and as she approached them she realized where she was; it was the Hall of Memories, a small temple dedicated to past leaders of the Anla'Shok. Entering she saw an empty circular room. The lighting was low, except for one curved wall of windows that looked out onto the training grounds. Candles were burning in alcoves inset into the walls, under plaques inscribed simply with names and dates in flowing Minbari script. There were dozens of them, set at staggered levels around the room. In the center of the room was a square pedestal, seemingly carved from a single block of smoky-grey crystal. A single figure knelt under one of these plaques, in front of him was a triangle of metal from which hung several small bells.

Susan had heard of the place, but somehow never gotten around to visiting it. The ceremony where John's plaque was set into the wall had occurred before she had come to Minbar to take up her current position. Glancing around she caught sight of one plaque with her own name, obvious from its being written in both Adronato, English, and to her surprise, Old Cyrillic. It brought a smile to her lips; the Minbari did love completeness and precision in their traditions. Moving forward, she saw that the Minbari who was praying was directly under the plaque inscribed with the name of Jeffrey Sinclair.

As she watched, the man hit the triangle once, twice, three times with a small hammer, its head wrapped in black cloth similar to that of the Ranger uniforms. Rising, he bowed low to the plaque, then went to the middle of the room, replacing the triangle in its holder in the center of the pedestal. He hadn't looked directly at her yet when he spoke, "Anla'Shok Na Ivanova, you honor us with your presence. May I be of service to you? My name is Rathenn."

Susan bowed a greeting to him in return, then cocked her head as she rifled her memories. "You were on the station once, weren't you? When Delenn took up position as Entil'zha?"

Rathenn smiled in appreciation. "Your memory is excellent. Yes, I was there. I served Entil'zha Sinclair, then Delenn, then Sheridan. And now you." His eyes were kind, but seemed to pin her down and thoroughly examine her from the inside out. "Why have you come to the Hall of Memories?"

"I got lost," Susan shrugged. "I'm supposed to check in with the medical staff." She looked around the room. "But maybe this was a fortunate accident." She walked over to Sinclair's plaque. Jeff's name, and the dates of his service were listed, at least the second time through. She wondered how many of the Anla'Shok knew of the double role of Jeffrey Sinclair in the long history of the Rangers. Reaching up, she ran her fingers over his name. "I wish you were here," she whispered.

"He was an extraordinary man," came a voice from behind her. "Reluctant at first, as you are now. But no one else could have done what he did to bring our races together. Not even Delenn herself."

Susan nodded, her hand flat against the cold metal. "I think Delenn can do anything she puts her mind to."

Rathenn chuckled dryly. "You know her well."

Susan couldn't help herself. "Not as well as I'd like to." Then she glanced guiltily at Rathenn. The Minbari could be touchy when it came to their leaders. But Rathenn was still smiling.

He looked keenly at her reddened cheeks, and suddenly asked, "And Delenn? Is she equally interested in...getting to know you?"

"What do you mean?" Susan blustered, wishing she'd kept her mouth shut. So many conflicting feelings jostled around inside her; they needed some outlet. A Minbari historian didn't seem the best confidant, but her choices were limited.

"I mean that Delenn is fortunate." Rathenn added, "She has been unhappy, and now it seems there is a possibility she will be so no longer. She has been greatly loved, and it seems she may be so again."

Rathenn's attitude was reassuring, and Susan tried smiling back. Her attention was drawn back to the plaque with Jeffrey's name. "You knew him?" she asked.

"I did. He honored me with his friendship, as much as he was able to give. Entil'zha Sinclair was a man who traveled lightly in this life. I was not surprised when he followed his heart elsewhere." Rathenn's voice was measured and sad. He examined Susan closely. "You have not taken on Valen's robes."

Susan shook her head. "It doesn't feel right. Anla'Shok Na, commander of the Rangers, that's a job I'm doing well enough. Those robes are part of it, I know, but not for me."

Rathenn stood with his hands loosely clasped in front of him. "Did Delenn ever tell you how she was chosen to lead the Rangers after Sinclair left us?"

Susan shook her head. "I suppose it was a vote of some kind? Maybe the senior Rangers or something?" She thought a moment, and said, "I don't know. How was I chosen? I thought it was John's decision."

"It was, in your case." Rathenn said thoughtfully. "Delenn chose Sinclair for the position. Dukhat chose Lennon." He smiled, "I suppose it was I who chose Delenn. Or rather let her know the choice of the Rangers." Laughing softly, Rathenn said, "At first she thought I was putting myself forward for the position."

"And why not?" Susan laughed in return. "It's not half so crazy as an old EarthForce General being given the top spot." Her laugh turned bitter. "I think John and Delenn thought they were being kind, giving me something to do with my life."

"It might have been kind, but it was also in the best interests of the Anla'Shok or neither would have suggested it. You may be assured of that," Rathenn said severely. Then he added gently, "And for what it is worth, I agree with their decision." Then he added, bowing his head to her, "Entil'zha."

"Is that what I am?" Susan asked shakily. "How do you know?"

"Your actions since you have arrived. Your dedication to the Anla'Shok. Your dedication to Delenn." Rathenn put one hand on her arm. "You must not be afraid to face your destiny."

Susan lowered her head, unable to speak for a moment. She was used to people putting their lives in her hands, but the Rangers were a breed apart. They were pledged to her as an individual rather than to an idea, like a government or the documents on which one was founded.

"When Delenn reformed the Grey Council she left the position of Chosen One open, for the one who is to come," Rathenn continued, his tone one of bland instruction. "Some say we wait for Valen to return."

Susan's eyes flickered to Sinclair's plaque then back to Rathenn's face. She saw that he was gazing at Sinclair's name as well. "You know?" she asked.

"I was there when he received his own message from the past. I did not realize what it meant at first, but later...well, he was the closed circle. That is what I was told." Rathenn closed his eyes, as if in pain. "I miss him still."

"I do too," replied Susan. "So there's no Chosen One at this point, just the Council. Does that bother your people?"

Rathenn chuckled. "Not as such. Things change, even for a people as traditional as my own. And there was always a period between leaders, for mourning, for the choosing. This one has gone on longer than most, but we can wait. The Council does its work, the civil service performs it duties as it always has. A government is possessed of a certain amount of entropy; once set in motion it tends to go on as before." He looked speculatively at Susan, "There are those who never accepted Delenn's refusal of the position. They would look to her for leadership if the occasion demanded it."

Susan looked suspiciously at Rathenn. "Does Delenn know that?"

Rathenn shrugged. "She knows many things. The question is, are you ready to go the last step, and assume completely the mantle of your predecessors? The Rangers deserve your whole heart; they are ready to give you theirs." He gestured towards the door. "Turn left as you leave; the Hall of Healers is through the second doorway on the right."

Susan said nothing, only bowing farewell to Rathenn. She could feel his eyes on her back as she left the room, head high, mind full of questions and answers, both jostling for recognition and acceptance.

After Susan left, Delenn returned to the kitchen where David remained seated at the table. His tea was growing cold in front of him, and his eyes were focused inward. Delenn picked up both their cups and set them in the warmer for re-heating. Removing them after a few seconds she placed the cup near David's hands, fingers interlaced as he remained lost in thought. Taking her seat, she held her own cup tightly wrapped in her cold fingers. It had been cool that morning, frost had touched the greenery on the stone walls that edged the balcony. Winter was approaching, and she felt the chill more these days.

After listening to the silence for another few moments, she spoke. "Susan may be here rather more often in the future. She may stay the night sometimes, although I do not think she will want to give up her quarters and I have no desire to leave these rooms. There are too many wonderful memories here." She tilted her head and examined her son, who had snapped his attention back at her words. "Is there something you would like to say about this, or about the future of your father's memorial?"

"I don't understand," David began hesitantly. "I mean, I guess I do understand, but what happened?

When did you and Anla'Shok Na Ivanova become...close? Did I miss something?"

Delenn smiled and took another sip of tea. "We have always been friends, if not intimates, since our days on the station. And this year...we have had to work closely together this year." Her smile faded as she add seriously, "She almost died yesterday. The healers said that if her head had struck the column at a slightly different angle..."

David nodded but pushed out more questions in a rush. "But it's only been a year since Dad left us! Less than that since Ivanova, Aunt Susan," he broke off suddenly, "What the hell do I call her now?" Frustration etched his features. "She's my superior officer, Mother! This is going to be extremely awkward, and I don't see how you can move on so damn soon anyway!"

"I am not moving on!" Delenn said heatedly. "I will never 'move on' and Susan will understand that or what is growing between us will die as rapidly as the arthra vines at the approach of winter!" Getting her voice under control, she went on, "You may address her as she asked you to; Ivanova in private, Anla'Shok Na in public. Nothing has changed that would affect this expression of basic politeness on your part." Softening at his stormy expression, she said, "It may have been only a year to you, David, but it is already an eternity to me. I love your father as much as I did the day he left; that will never change. Trust me in this. But the heart is a house with many chambers, as the saying goes. A door has opened in mine. I would like to see what lies beyond that door."

David still frowned, and said sulkily, "I still don't know what Dad would have thought of all this."

"I will ask him when next I see him," said Delenn. At David's shocked expression, she smiled sadly. "It will not be soon, I know that. But I told him once I would see him again, in the place where no shadows fall, and I will. But David...I do not believe he would begrudge me any happiness I find in the interim."

At that David shook his head and finally cracked a wan smile. "I don't believe he would either." Standing up, he walked behind his mother and reached down to hug her from behind, rubbing his chin against the tips of her crest. "Neither do I. And as Aunt Susan would say, Mazel Tov to to you both. Now I have to get back on duty or my boss will have plenty to say about it." He picked up the short cape he had draped over the back of his chair and flung it around his shoulders. Leaning over to give his mother a quick kiss on her uplifted cheek, he confided, "She's a bit of a tyrant, you know."

Delenn watched her son as he quick-marched to the front door. "I know," she replied.

That evening, after a day spent distracted and absent-minded, Delenn returned to her quarters wondering if and when Susan would come back. There had been no opportunities for them to meet during the day, but Delenn had managed to contact the healers and was relieved to hear that Susan had indeed met with them, and that her recovery was on track. She prepared enough food for two, but Susan had not arrived by the time of the evening meal. Delenn ate alone, as she did most nights since John had gone away.

Afterwards, she cleaned up what few dishes she had used, not wanting to leave them for the morning staff. When John was there, they had valued the time they had spent as a family, and the evening meal had been sacrosanct to them both. First there had been the two of them, then three, then back to two. Now there was only herself. The room was quiet, and as she passed into the living area where she had laid out some material that she needed to read, she paused to touch a few keys on the com unit on the wall, starting some Earth music playing softly. It was an instrumental piece, low throbbing strings behind a solo piano. Settling down on the couch, she tried to focus on the reports from the two new applicants to the Alliance. Worlds kept approaching them for membership, eager to join, even after twenty years. The Alliance was a success; the peace had been kept...largely, in any case. Everything had gone as they had planned. She had endured almost a year without him, and everything kept going, kept moving forward. Letting go of the papers hanging limp in her hand, she watched as they settled onto the table like the last of the sensa leaves fluttering to the chill ground outside.

A chime sounded in the room, almost masked by the music. Delenn felt a flutter of anxiety start up a nervous rhythm in her chest, but she didn't hesitate as she keyed in the unlocking code which had been set to high security after nightfall. She waited on the couch, back upright, hands crossed in her lap. Susan had full access, and could have entered directly. So it might not be her, but the guards would have notified her of anyone unfamiliar at the door this time of night. It was someone they knew she trusted.

Susan spent as much time that day as she could catching up on work, but finally even she could find nothing left undone. She went back to her quarters to take a quick shower. Examining herself in the mirror, she wondered that she looked the same. After all that had happened she should look different. Leaning forward, all she could see was the lines in her face and the grey in her hair. What in the world was she thinking? If she had any brains, she'd stay here tonight and get some sleep. Delenn would understand, even approve. But then again, she had suffered a head injury, and undoubtedly wasn't thinking clearly. Obviously that was the reason she headed back out, determined to talk things over with Delenn.

As Susan approached the doors, her stomach kept lurching from one side to the other, as if trying to flee the situation if she wouldn't. The guards nodded to her, and waited for her to go straight inside. Hesitant, she paused, then put her forefinger on the chime. She reasoned it wasn't fair to just walk in and surprise Delenn. The truth was any flicker of delay seemed worth the effort. But she didn't even get that as the door was unlocked with alacrity, and she went in, heart knocking against her ribs. Delenn should be in the living area by now, the hour for the evening meal being long past, so she headed that direction.

"Hello, Delenn." Now that she was there, she couldn't think of another thing to say. Delenn seemed at a loss as well, sitting there seemingly calm, but her eyes wide and dark in her pale face. Susan thought she looked like a shy wild fawn, poised to dart away if startled. "I came back."

"You said you would," replied Delenn. "And so I expected you." Then she shook her head. "That is a partial truth at best. I hoped you would come, and feared you would not. Or feared you would come and hoped you would not. It is confusing..."

Susan laughed briefly. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who's confused!" She crossed the room and sat next to Delenn on the couch. Taking one of Delenn's hands in her own, she said, "I spent some time today in the Hall of Memories."

Delenn tilted her head to one side as if trying to see what side-path this conversation was taking. "Was Rathenn there?" she asked.

"He was. I remembered him, you know, from the ceremony before, when you took on this job. He said that he knew Jeff when he was here. Seemed to like him." Susan's voice tightened on the name.

"They were friends," Delenn replied simply. "What else did Rathenn say?"

"He said you were lucky," Susan said. "Lucky in love," she added wryly. "I'll have to teach you poker," she added to herself.

Delenn was distracted by this. "What is this 'poker'? It sounds like a meditative discipline."

Susan's face split in a wide grin. "Sort of." Then she sobered as she continued, now holding both of Delenn's hands between her own, and gripping them tightly. "Rathenn wanted to know why I wasn't wearing Valen's robes."

"What did you tell him?" asked Delenn. Susan's grip was almost as strong as her own.

"I told him I wasn't sure it was the right thing for me to do; that I wasn't ready for that yet." Susan lowered her head, and closed her eyes. It was time to lay her cards on the table. "I can't replace Jeff, or you." Then she looked up, trying to speak with her eyes more than her voice. "I can't replace John."

"No, you can't," replied Delenn practically. "Each of us brought unique talents to the position. The Rangers have been fortunate to have had the right people in the right place at the right time. Or perhaps it is the times that brought out the right people. I do not know how it works, but it does."

Susan nodded, then licked her lips, suddenly dry and stiff. Her voice cracked as she said bluntly, "I can't replace John as Entil'zha...or as anything else either. You're missing him, and here I am..."

Delenn suddenly pulled her hands free of Susan's grasp, and stood up, arms stiff and straight at her side. "No one is asking you to replace him!" Fervently she declaimed, "I am not such a small sad person that I only have room in my heart for one love, even such a one as John Sheridan! I love him, as much now as I ever did, and I expect I will love him like this forever. But love is not reductive; it does not exist as splintered pieces of a finite whole!" Wrapping her arms around herself like a shield, she continued, "I love my son, and I loved my poor lost Lennier. Dukhat exists in my memory, still bright, and Marcus, others,...even Neroon. After a fashion." Her temper flashed then ebbed away as she looked at Susan sadly. "I do not know where this journey that lays before us may lead, but I know John would not want us to hesitate out of fear. If you do not want to tread this path with me, tell me and I will understand and accept your decision. But Susan," and here she held out out one hand towards the still-seated woman, "I am not putting you in John's place. That place is filled. This is new, to me, this feeling for you..." Her voice grew whisper-soft, and dropped off into silence.

Susan sat for a moment, facing that decision she had dodged her whole life. Embrace the illusion, step off the cliff and try to fly, take the irrevocable step towards intimacy- it was a terrible risk. And she was afraid; she could admit that to herself now. She had always been afraid. Delenn came back and sat next to her, placing one hand on her arm, just as Rathenn had in the Hall of Memories. Looking into Delenn's face, shy and open at the same time, eyes widened in fear and yes, desire; she realized it was like looking into a mirror. Carefully, she placed her hand against Delenn's cheek, running her thumb along the prominent cheekbone, feeling the soft skin under her hand, warm and pliant. Leaning forward, Susan touched her lips to Delenn's, feeling the puff of a breath held and let go at last. As their embrace lengthened and tightened in urgency and mutual need, Susan had one last coherent thought before she was lost. Falling wasn't so bad, not when you were certain someone was there to catch you.

The next morning, just before dawn, Delenn got up as usual to perform her morning vigil. Susan got up as well, and dressed rapidly. Walking across the room to the closet, she removed the robe of Valen that Delenn had prepared for her a year ago. Pulling it on over her clothes, she looked at herself in the full-length mirror in what had been John and Delenn's bedchamber. As she smoothed the robe across her chest, and fastened it at the waist, she saw a somber face looking back at her, one that was aware of the awful responsibility she was taking on, the gift that she had been given of a new beginning.

But it was nothing compared to the gift she had been given last night. Or so her heart sang, a heart which was speaking clearly to her at last.

from "Space, Time, and the Incurable Romantic" by JMS-

_Susan Ivanova's memorial rose up...a tower of crystal and stone whose layers wove together in delicate patterns that caught the cool white light of an ordinary day and broke it into a million brightly colored pieces..._

_The Minbari...moved to the front of the crypt, where he placed the flowers in a waiting receptacle._

_"Long ago, President Delenn ordered these flowers placed here every day. The words of Delenn are still followed, and will always be followed." _


End file.
